The wide blue yonder. It was so lovely and free. Especially to a teen in possession of a brand new license. Pilot's, that is. She still had two months to go and a couple behind the wheels before she was allowed to drive a car on her own.

It was her first time flying alone in the X-jet. Except for that one time. Which didn't count, because Calley was there. And she had been a mouse.

Anyway.

Alone.

With the clouds.

And two little black specks that looked like birds, no planes, no... Wonder Woman and Jigglypuff?

Katrina caught only the briefest glimpse of a brown-haired, blue-eyed boy with a ridiculous moustache drawn on his face before said face was face-to-face with her own face through the windshield. And then gone.

Dio?

The world seemed to stop.

Had she...

...just...

...hit Zephyr with the jet?

The world sped up again.

Thrusterbackflapsdownlandinggearbrakescentralparkabuildinglandedhatchopen.

Katrina scrambled out of the door, her eyes frantically searching the sky, too afraid to look down at the ground.

"Diiiiiiii-ooooooo!" Ohgodohgodohgodohgodno.

How could she be blamed? The markers said PERMANENT in all uppercase letters and he was so peaceful, sleeping there. Drooling on the pillow. And the wig. It made her feel so saucy.

Delicate was her handwriting for the word 'Meanie.' (Backwards so he could get the full effect in the mirror.) Carefully she traced the Barry Hotter glasses around his eyes. Gently she applied cat whiskers and crying tears and a tongue... He would never know who did it! Hehe!

The cap snapped back on and Ghost flexed her black leather gloves in a challenge to Zephyr's dream state. Stealing Zephyr's dignity was fun, but that wasn't what she had come to burgle.

Poof. The fake brunette went up in smoke and seeped into the safe. It was easier to open from the inside... only... once she was inside she noticed that the structure wasn't exactly what it appeared to be. The safecracker came back to solidity on the other side of the open safe door and lifted away the false bottom...

Wheee! Ghost cannonballed Simon on his bed. Because that was his name. Simon.

Consequences be damned.

"Simon~ Simon~ Wake up Simon. It's past noon, sleepyhead!" Ghost was absolutely giddy as she flipped through the passport. "Simon Smith. Your mother wasn't very original was she?"

Before he could take a swipe, poof. The burglar was a puff of smoke again and on her way out the window with Zephyr's personal information and his gun. A classic catch me if you can.

There are few things that can compare to the pleasant mind numbing haze of a strong drink(s); the narrow window of time during which the alcohol's influence extends to the brain but not the liver, kidneys or other vital organs. It is a state of light euphoria rooted in the concept that ignorance is truly bliss and for a few short hours Zephyr had been more than content engage in such an indulgence if it allowed him anything resembling a peaceful night's sleep.

In hindsight he would likely come to reflect on his... immoderation, was an uncharacteristic slip in judgment, at the time however the elementals thoughts had been rather preoccupied with the possibility of genuine rest, relaxation and how both could be achieved with a high quality bottle of port. There had been no notion of danger or recklessness, after all only a handful of individuals knew where he resided and none of them were truly of a mind to do him any serious harm.

That statement would later be revised, it had been quite some time since he'd last been on the receiving end of any pointless puerile pursuits. He'd need to think of a suitable form of retaliation at a later date after his head had cleared, for the present however he'd simply be content if the bloody harpy lying on top of him ceased it's inane screeching so he could sink back into some form of torpor.

Then he heard the words, and among them a name he'd not used in over five years. A name no one had any business knowing and all thoughts of sleep fled from his mind as weary azure eyes shot open in time to catch sight of a familiar lithe form waving a somewhat worn yet recognizable document in front of his face before vanishing into vapor which slipped through his fingers and streamed out an open window.

Without a second thought he gave chase.

In hindsight, it proved to be a rather poor move. In his defense though the weather report had said nothing about errant fighter jets.

The sky was as empty and picturesque as when she had first taken off. Only a couple of white, fluffy, entirely too happy looking clouds.

Katrina's stomach churned and she stumbled to the edge of the roof (for she had landed on a roof it would seem) and looked down. The sidewalk below teemed with people doing their weekend errands, none of them seeming too upset about anything (or anyone) falling out of the sky in front of them. She kept both hands on the protective railing and bent low toward her own feet, her head reeling from lack of oxygen. All her breaths came in irregular spasms.

What if she... *gasp*

What if he... *shudder*

She walked her hands, one over the other, over the railing following it around to the front of the jet. If Dio wasn't in the sky... or on the ground...

She slowly lifted her head to inspect the front of the plane, praying harder than she had since her visit to the sewer two years ago.

Please don't let him be dead.

Drunks, more often than not, survive their collisions because of their loosey-goosey lack of seizing up. Sure they get into wrecks more often because of impaired reaction speed and impaired judgement, but It wasn't until Ghost heard the thwhump of Zephyr hitting something solid, something solid that she had already dodged, that she started to put the facts together.

Since when did Zephyr sleep that hard? Not that she had all that much experience in that department, but... the drool.

Ghost skidded to a mid air halt and shifted her focus back toward the plane. It was instinct. She caught him mid-flop and jerked him well away from the plane so he wouldn't slide down the windshield or worse. What a damsel he made these days. Zephyr really needed to stop endangering himself with these drugs. Also, that jet driver needed a good chewing out. Flying so low over New York.

It was one thing for Ghost to razz Zephyr, quite another for an almost murderer to happen.

Zephyr, AKA Dio, AKA Simon Smith, Ghost managed with unsteady air. She was never as good at navigating air currents and solid bodies as he was, but she could steer him toward the landing spot of that jet.

"Are you authorized to fly this low?"

That... familiar shaped jet.

"Excuse me." Ghost deposited Zephyr on the roof as gently as she could which probably wasn't as gently as she should. Solidity came slowly for Ghost. That gave her time to tuck the gun and passport away. It also gave her time to check the little half mask and wig. They all seemed to be on straight so she settled into as full a solid state as she could with her hands on her hips. "But you have to be careful of wayward elementals."

Pain.

That was the primary sensation, even through the alcohol induced haze which clouded the preponderance of his thoughts Zephyr was acutely aware of a searing ache across his left side which spiked in intensity with each breath and movement he made. Being something of a quick learner the hessian swiftly put a good deal of effort into remaining as still as possible, making each inhale and exhale as shallow as he could whilst he struggled to gain his bearings.

Opening his eyes was the first mistake and drew a muted groan as intolerably bright light seemed to pierce through to the center of his skull before he could close his eyes again. Dimly he was aware of voices speaking a short distance away but these were only of secondary consideration compared to the constant clamors of agony which racked his body. He was fairly certain that whatever happened had involved his ribs to no small degree which meant he likely wouldn't be on his feet anytime soon without a new dose of painkillers, which was unlikely and so that left him with...

Taking shallow but prolonged breath Zephyr filled his lungs as close to capacity as he could in his current state, held for it for the barest of moments, and then brought it to bear on his injured side; quickly but carefully using his element to unravel the threads which held him together, loosening the bonds which kept him solid as he shifted blood, flesh and bone to simple air.

It was a trying technique but he'd had ample opportunity to practice ever since Ghost had taught him all those months ago, add to that he was only attempting partial incorporeality and thus dealt with none of the sensory deprivation aside from that of his ribs, and the process became significantly easier, allowing him to complete the transformation in mere seconds as his wounded side swiftly lost cohesion, and became transparent with the ache fading in a similar manner.

The pain from his side now little more than a rapidly fading memory Zephyr slowly eased his eyes open, squinting against the tortuous sun he chanced a glance towards the source of the voices then. Emboldened by the lack of pain, turned his head to fully to make out two indistinct figures standing a short distance away. The short of two figures was slim, and if the voice was any individuation, only vaguely past female prepubescent. The taller of the two was more easily identifiable despite his blurred vision; he had long ago come to recognize Ghosts unique composition with his aerial awareness, her body was almost as much air as it was flesh making her-

Recollection swept through the hessian as he again heard his name being called and saw the sylph wave an aged but familiar document past face before soaring out the window. She had started this entire thing, she'd stolen from him, fled the scene whilst taunting him and the resulting chase had done something to his ribs. His snow haired counterpart had a few things she needed to answer for.

Pushing himself somewhat unevenly to a sitting position Zephyr noted for the first time that he was only attired in a loose pair of draw string pants before he shakily pushed himself to his feet, his breath rattling in a faintly unnerving manner as he turned to face the two girls. "Ghost... I have a bone to pick with you."

On the other side of the plane. There was a familiar voice coming from an unfamiliar person.

>>"...you have to be careful of wayward elementals."

Ghost? With long dark hair?

>>"Ghost... I have a bone to pick with you."

Zephyr? In pajama pants? With half his chest missing?

"Dio! You're alive? Are you okay?" Katrina was kneeling next to the wind manipulator within moments. She wanted to check his wounds but she didn't know what to do. She wrapped her useless arms around herself. Half his chest was missing! How could he even breathe? How was he even alive?

"I'm so sorry!" Katrina choked and rocked back and forth, gasping for air all the while. She looked back to Ghost. "I'm sorry."

"Kat, stay back." She had meant to tease the girl and play at not being Ghost, the wig did make her feel ever so sassy, but at the sight of Zephyr she went into full mommy mode.

She had noticed it in his apartment, but it was becoming more and more clear that Zephyr was hung over. Or maybe he was even still a little tipsy. Katrina needed to be removed from the situation. "Sweety, can you get the med kit from the plane?" Giving the girl something to do might also help with her uneven breathing. What Ghost did not need was to respirate Kat while Zephyr did something stupid(er) to himself.

Ghost stepped closer to inspect the other air elemental's work. She could never have stopped her transformation so neatly. Well. Maybe not never, but definitely not as she was now. From what she could see, a whole section of his torso was incorporeal like a neat window to his insides. Just the thought made her shudder and yet she was fascinated. Call it the car wreck phenomenon.

The body is a very complex structure. Ghost watched blood pump seamlessly into thin air and no doubt drain just as seamlessly back. His spine glistened with possibly it's first ever glimpse of the sun and his viscera...

The elemental looked quickly away from Zephyr's show and tell, up to his face. "Zephyr you really don't sound so good. Let me help you sit down so you can put yourself back together." Zephyr's mutation out powered her in every way. Her best weapon was the mom voice. He was scaring her with the way he swayed and the way he sounded.

Ghost stepped in to touch Zephyr's shoulder and spoke quietly in case little ears might be listening. "Pick your bones later, Simon. Kat's about to hyperventilate because your insides are showing outside."

Thinking had not become any easier once he'd regained his feet, on the contrary it became even more arduous as his focus was split even further. For although his side no longer pained him light still seemed to sear his vision, his skull persisted in throbbing with the remnants of last nights libations and breathing was starting to prove increasingly difficult with the air itself seeming to shake and shudder each time it passed through him.

Still it didn't matter, if he could stand under his own power then he couldn't be in too serious a state, that made sense didn't it? Never mind that his balance was becoming more precarious with each step, that was likely just the hangover. He'd get what he wanted from Ghost and then go home, take what medication he could find and fall back to sleep, if just breathing was taking this much effort then clearly he was still tired. Everything would fix itself after a few hours rest.

"I'm so sorry!"[/color]

Zephyr blinked and glanced down at the strangely familiar young girl now kneeling at his feet, oddly he couldn't recall seeing her move. One moment she'd been standing beside the sylph all but mute and now she was next to him on her knees, shaking and all but crying apologies, yet she seemed unwilling to meet his gaze and so all the azure eyed elemental could see was a curtain of blonde hair and bare shoulders above a sundress until she suddenly lifted her head-

"Sarah?"

The word became more of a cough then a name as the air caught in the hessians throat from a mixture of surprise and something more physical, but it was the former which sent his thoughts spiraling. It had been years since he'd last seen his sister, almost half a decade since he'd heard her voice. She'd grown that much clear but she still the child in his memories. How had she gotten here? And why did she seem so scared of him? What had he-

The surge of questions and confusion on top of everything else was utterly disorienting, and for a moment it threatened what little balance the elemental still possessed. He was lost, there was simply too much for his flagging thoughts to process. He needed to think, to clear his head but his mind wouldn't comply; it stumbled and stalled and then Ghost was somehow standing in front him, her words seeming to be a step behind her lips as she looked up at him.

"...so good. Let me help you sit down so you can put yourself back together."[/color]

He stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, not certain how to respond. He'd only just managed to stand what good would it do to sit down again? He needed to get home. No, he needed to get Sarah home, she shouldn't even be here. The fact she was here at all meant her father was- the elemental stopped and shook his head- why couldn't he think straight?

"Pick your bones later, Simon. Kat's about to hyperventilate because your insides are showing outside."[/color]

Ghost was back, her hand was on his shoulder and she was whispering, but she wasn't making any sense; where was Katrina? When had she learned his name? The hessians brow creased as irritation grew at his own floundering thoughts and he forced himself to breathe deeply despite the effort it took and for a split second his concentration slipped. His ribs flickered into substance for the briefest of moments and white hot agony lanced through his ribs.

He was back on the ground before he had any idea what happened.

She was Sarah again? And Ghost was calling him Simon. And she could see his spine through the front of his chest.

Katrina's breaths were uneven and shaky. Her lungs were demanding more air than there seemed to be available at the top of the building. She could see Dio's spine through his chest. Her lungs heaved again.

But Ghost had given her something to do, something to help. The med kit. Right, she could get that. The teen stood again on wobbly legs and then ran as fast as she could without tripping back to the open hatch of the jet. The kit would be in the cockpit, in a special compartment near the co-pilot's seat. It was right where it was supposed to be, which helped calm her nerves just a bit. She had the kit, and Ghost said the kit would help. She would believe in Ghost.

Laden with her emergency burden, the little illusionist rushed back to where she had left the two air elementals.

She was just in time to see Zephyr collapse in a heap.

Katrina dropped the kit at his side and bent down to check for his pulse. On the side of his neck that was not already in the ghostly realm. His heart was still beating, so that meant they still had time. But time to do what? How did you treat and injury like half of someone's chest missing? Katrina was very pale as she looked up to Ghost.

"Is he going to die?"

She had tried to catch him. She really did, but with one hand already on his shoulder the other naturally splayed out to touch... Ghost shuddered and swallowed. And then swallowed again to keep from throwing up. With the clinic below their apartment, Ghost thought she had experienced enough blood and guts in her lifetime to keep her lunch down.

Zephyr was the one who need her help now. Zephyr and Katrina.

She tucked the long locks of fake hair behind her ears and knelt by her friend while muttering. "I shouldn't have teased him." The gun and passport weighed heavy in her back pockets now.

Small fingers all but appeared at Zephyr's throat. Kat had a good head on her shoulders. Ghost needed to buck up and assess the situation. He was partly incorporeal. Zephyr had to fight to keep that way so.. why in the world would he fight to keep just a piece of him insubstantial?

She probed the bits of air that were Zephyr with her power. It was possible that she could force his body to reassemble itself. If he would let go, it would snap back in place, but he was holding it. Maybe a little extra pressure would be too much for him to hold?

>"Is he going to die?"

"He's not going to die, sweetheart. He's just slightly incorporeal." An every day, average power flub. That was all her tone indicated. No big deal. Ghost moved her hands out over the offensive gap in Zephyr's side and started to push his particles together.

Blacking out once generally suffices to encourage a certain amount of caution, however this tends to be somewhat outweighed by surprise of the act itself and curiosity arrives soon after to remove whatever residual prudence might remain. Blacking out twice on the other hand tends to rapidly dilute any prior shock factor and leave behind what might best be termed a circumspect form of basic common sense.

He was on the floor, again. Logically, it therefore stood to reason that an attempt to stand would likely only cause him to revert to his current position and thus any such course of action would be unwise. The uncomfortable sense of vertigo he was experiencing lent a great deal of credence to this theory as he was presently having difficulty telling left from right, and only knew up from down because of his aforementioned position.

Further evidence supporting the inadvisability of regaining his feet came from the fact that he was finding it rather difficult to breathe; his lungs seemed incapable of reaching anything close to capacity and the excess effort resulting from standing meant it was unlikely he would get the oxygen her required. This factor at least could be ameliorated to some degree by gathering a greater concentration of oxygen in the air around him which would essentially him to make greater use of the air with weaker breaths.

He did so.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, a portion of his chest was currently incorporeal. In and of itself this was not a bad thing; he could maintain a small ethereal transformation for some time and with relatively little effort. Someone however, and he rather suspected he knew who, was attempting to the reverse the process. Again, this would not normally have been overly detrimental, if it weren't for the fact that the sylph in question was inadvertently forcing him to feel each of his broken or possibly cracked rib.

For those who are unaware damaged ribs are exceedingly painful, and although he was strong enough to curb the vast majority of waifs attempts, incorporeality was her natural talent. The end result was that he could feel his ribs slowly, and painfully, transitioning back into solidarity and could practically feel the flaws in the ethereal bone just before they became real and added to the searing sensation along his side.

Needless to say he was not particularly eager for the waif to continue her attempts. As soon as he managed to gain a bearing on her position through his spatial awareness he raised a leaden arm and clamped onto the sylphs wrist before opening an azure eye and glaring at his pale counterpart with what little ire he could summon in his condition and grinding out between coughs "You're not helping. Add to it. Don't take away."

He was not going to die. Ghosty promised. He was even talking still. She took that as a good sign.

Her eyes widened as she watched what Ghost was doing. Under her hands the pieces of Zephyr started to reassemble themselves. Gradually his pieces were becoming more and more opaque, more and more visible. She realized finally that those pieces weren't missing, they were simply aired out at the moment. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought.

Zephyr didn't seem to like being put back together, though. He was pulling at Ghost's hand, telling her to stop what she was doing. What did he mean by add to it?

Her own breath was slowing, her panic decreasing slightly, and she was finally able to take a closer look at what was happening without completely freaking out. She could hear Zephyr's wheezy breathing, which was weird, because she could also see it working. He was like a human puzzle with some of the pieces missing. And some of the pieces in the wrong spots.

"I don't think his rib is supposed to be poking towards his lung like that," she pointed out to Ghost, who was the one fixing up this puzzle.

She wished she could do more to help, but she wasn't an air manipulator and couldn't do anything the fix what was wrong with Dio. While she waited and watched, her hand reached down for the British elemental's and she grasped it gently. At least she could comfort him maybe.

Or maybe she could do even better than that. One time when Koga had been hurting, she'd been able to use an illusion to take away his senses so he couldn't feel any more. Maybe she could do the same to Zephyr. Katrina closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of nothingness. She imagined that her torso was floating in the void, unable to be touched by anything. The sensations on her own torso numbed gradually, and as she concentrated, she tried to spread that un-feeling to her injured (almost) older brother.

She jumped when he caught he wrist. There was something entirely unnerving about hearing his voice like that, but she nodded to soothe him and froze her efforts so that she wouldn't do any more damage.

Add to it? What did that even mean?

Ghost wrangled a bit of air and tried to add that to Zephyr's own particles, but... it just wasn't the same quality. That air did not fit in this puzzle.

> "I don't think his rib is supposed to be poking towards his lung like that,"

Now that Kat mentioned it... Ghost started to pay attention to what they had a clear view of. "I haven't ever... I mean, I don't think I can fix that. The parts need to go back together like they started... don't they?"

She supposed that they had been going rather fast when he had slammed into the x-jet, but she never would have imagined this kind of damage."This is a good reason to not fly solid."

The white haired elemental chewed her lower lip and tried to think on what Zephyr meant. Add to it. Don't take away.

She could try to go incorporeal herself and take some of herself and give it to him? But she didn't think anything of his was actually missing. "Zephyr, I need your help." Or at least his permission... maybe just a little more explanation?

A hoarse sigh escaped Zephyr's lips as the pain in his side began to fade once more; his instructions hadn't been quite as eloquent as he normally would have liked, but it had apparently been enough for Ghost to understand as the Sylph had finally ceased interfering with his ethereal wound, which was just as well really; with his breath as shallow as it was it took a great deal of effort to summon more than a few short words at a time.

In the midst of gathering his breath to try and clarify his instructions for his ivory haired counterpart the hessian felt something petit slip into his free hand. His other eye opened with what seemed to be glacial slowness and by the time his gaze had finally managed to focus he'd traced the small fingers clutching his hand from wrist, to shoulder, to face and could clearly make out a pair of warm ashen eyes staring down at him with no small amount of concern.

Recognition came all but instantly, and with it something else which froze the name on the tip of his tongue and turned his still weary thoughts inwards as he focused on the rapidly fading sensations from not just his injured side, but his entire torso until he felt nothing aside from the distinct displacement in his spatial awareness. This was something more than his own incorporeal influence and it certainly wasn't Ghosts which meant-

Well, well, well... she'd been holding out on him. That was interesting but now really wasn't the time for it sadly.

Ghost was talking again, his ears only partially successful in catching her worried words but her intent was clear enough; she was waiting on him, for acquiesce or instructions he was certain, but then it hardly mattered as he'd be giving her some of both. Despite the maladroit movement of his thoughts he knew what he wanted to do. He could feel the damage and the pain, or rather he had been able to, until a certain blonde gamine had taken his hand. Nothing had been lost in the collision, it had simply been...mislaid, and he could have put it back, should have been able to, but right now he couldn't maintain the shift and move the pieces back to their proper place.

That was where Ghost came in.

His head turned ever so slightly as his gaze flickered back to slender sylph and he caught her hazel eyes with his own as he struggled to form words with what little air he could summon. "Keep me changed."

Again it wasn't the most informative of instructions but short of gaining hold of pen paper he doubted he'd be able to make himself any clearer. Still though, it's said that actions speak louder than words and so that was what he gave her; carefully adjusting his control to allow his ribs to fluctuate between corporeal and ethereal until she finally got the hint and swiftly took over the burden of maintaining incorporeality from him. "Good, don't stop."

His limited vocabulary was beginning to grate on his patience to no small degree, but he pushed it aside as he turned his head again to fix his eyes on Katrina with a knowing expression as he bit out a single word as gently as he could manage. "Stop."

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the ingénues efforts, it was quite a thoughtful gesture on her part and he was thankful for it. At this stage though her manipulations would hinder more than help him. He had no intention of starting what he was about to do while effectively blind, if he was going to set things to rights he needed to be able to feel, in spite of the discomfort it would cause him.

As sensation swiftly returned to his midsection Zephyr nodded once before closing his eyes and turning his attention inwards, tracing the lingering echoes of pain and stress from the centre of his chest outwards to the almost imperceptible boundary between corporeality and the insubstantial. Following the tenuous bonds of his ethereal essence amidst Ghost's influence as he sought out the root of the damage.

He'd never tried anything like this before , he was wary enough of the transformation as it was, even when he was incomplete control of it and endeavoring to do little more than keep his general shape. Now though, that shape had been broken, somewhat akin to a puzzle; nothing was missing but the pieces no longer fit properly. They needed to be rearranged, altered, and somehow he could feel how each part was meant to slot together and as they did he stole a portion of the transformation back from Ghost, willing healed flesh back into existence, but freely giving it back on the odd occasion pain flickered through him to signal something was misassembled.

He was uncertain how long it took, but by the time he'd finished he his mind was beyond was exhausted, yet the ease with which he could now inhale assured him he'd done a passable job, if not a sterling one.